


Addiction

by supernaturallylost



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Alcoholic Dean, Angst, Angst and Humor, Drunken Kissing, Emotionally Repressed Dean, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4249473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallylost/pseuds/supernaturallylost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean struggles with his alcohol addiction, denying that it exists even when it threatens his life. Sam and Cas finally have to step in and help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addiction

Dean scarfed another few bites of his hamburger before he heard Sam say, “Slow down! I know we have problems right now, Dean, but turning to meat is not the answer!”

With a mouth happily full and grin impishly large, Dean replied, “I can stop any time I want!”

Sam huffed in response before wrapping his fingers around his tea mug and bringing the glass to his lips for a drink. Meanwhile, Dean finished his burger, fries, and chocolate shake. Within half an hour, the two were back at the bunker taking deep breaths, kicking off their shoes, and tossing their jackets onto the wall hooks by the entrance.

“G’night, Dean,” Sam smiled. “I’m beat.”

Dean nodded his agreement before he continued walking toward the kitchen. During the walk, he considered when he’d last had a drink. He wondered if he should go out to buy more beers, just in case they were close to running out. Without noticing, he clenched and unclenched his hands.

Habitually, he kept the lights off when he reached the kitchen. The cool tile welcomed the warmth from his feet. He went straight to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water and maybe a late night snack before bed. With a smile still leftover from his satisfying night out with Sam, he opened the stainless steel door. The hard blue light of the refrigerator cast shadows under his eyes and highlighted the sweat along his forehead. Behind a veil of cold air sat bottles of water, leftover pastas and casseroles, and beer bottles. Dean stared, a hand curled over the door like talons, pressed hard enough to turn his knuckles a ghostly white.

Seven empty bottles were on the kitchen counter when Sam came down for a glass of water an hour and a half later.

 

The next day, Dean woke up craving whiskey. His head immediately began with waves of aching to accompany the rolling nausea he felt in his core. Shrugging his shoulders to stretch, he forced himself to drink some coffee and eat some toast before the long day of hunting began. Together, he and Sam hunted an entire nest of the damned beasts, and Dean found himself with the scars to prove it. He and his brother limped into the bunker that night.

“I need some ice,” Sam groaned.

Dean grunted in agreement. While Sam opened the freezer, Dean stared at the refrigerator handle. The next minute was a blur for Dean. All he wanted was a nice hot cup of coffee, but his eyes were latched onto that stainless steel handle.

“Dean? Do you need something before I go to bed?”

“Beer.” Why had he said that?

“Are you sure, Dean?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed while he frowned.

“Come on, Sammy,” Dean grunted sarcastically, “it was a rough day.”

Sam said nothing, but he didn’t move for a whole minute before Dean pushed him away from the fridge.

 

Dean drove with a lead foot. Hands gripped the steering wheel loosely as they sped thirty above the limit. They raced on the highway, determined to get to Illinois within a day.

“Slow down there, Dean,” Sam joked, waving his hand out of the window.

Dean grinned, turned to face his brother, and said, “Don’t worry, Sammy, I know when to stop.”

When he turned to road once more, a small bead of sweat fell down his brow.

“I think Cas is meeting us up there,” Sam smiled casually.

‘Cas,’ Dean thought. Cas meant a late night of talking and joking and drinking. Cas meant mixing vodka with lemonade and adding a small dash of cranberry juice. Cas meant shooting whiskey to see who could out-drink who.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said out loud.

 

“Shh,” Cas giggled with squinting eyes. “You’ll wake up your brother.”

“He’s in a different room, dumbass,” Dean stuck out his tongue.

Cas shook his head happily and drank deeply from the bottle.

“God,” he said with a shake of his head. “When I was angel, I could drink any human under the table.”

“And look at you now,” Dean smiled, moving forward.

He reached up and fumbled at Cas’s tie. Flipping it over Cas’s shoulder, he started to unbutton the top few buttons of the shirt.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cas answered with a laugh. He couldn’t quite focus on Dean, but he did manage to look in the proper direction.

“You’re drunk, Cas,” Dean smiled.

Dean pushed his forehead against Cas’s and pushed open his shirt. Hazily, he pushed his lips to whatever skin he could reach. Cas laughed when Dean kissed his cheekbone and then slid lazily down onto his jaw with his tongue.

“You are, too, Dean,” he hummed, leaning back against the bed behind them. “You only kiss me when you’re drunk.”

Dean raised an eyebrow while gently pinching Cas’s ear with his teeth.

“Well, I’m always drunk,” he retorted sassily, “so I don’t have a chance to kiss you sober.”

“Dean, that doesn’t sound under control,” Cas frowned suddenly, reaching up to Dean’s hips and pushing him backward.

With a groan and an angry glare, Dean said, “That’s the difference between alcohol and you: one of you helps me to forget the pain, and the other brings it all back again.”

“Which one’s which?” Cas asked sloppily. His hands gripped Dean tighter when he felt Dean try to move away.

“Just go to bed, Cas,” Dean answered. He pulled against Cas’s hands and fell backward onto the ground.

“Don’t go,” Cas whined. He blurrily reached out a pathetic hand.

“Bed, Cas,” Dean answered. “I’ll sleep in the impala.”

 

Dean heard a loud, high-pitched ringing in his ears. He was beginning to sweat.

“You’ll never defeat us,” croaked the last vampire in the state of Ohio. “Not all tied up like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

“That’d just be my feet, genius,” he responded. His forehead flashed with heat before running cold as ice. He shivered.

“Hah! You’re trembling,” the vampire laughed. “I haven’t even started the torture and you’re already scared?”

Suddenly, the side of Dean’s head felt like it was being split open from the inside out. He clenched his jaw tightly and closed his eyes hard. In the distance, he heard sounds of laughter, but the only other thing he was aware of was his consciousness being ripped apart with pain.

“Too easy!” the vampire was saying, laughing while Dean struggled against his bonds.

“Then let’s make it a fair fight,” someone said roughly.

Within seconds, the vampire was being thrown to the ground underneath Sam, who was injecting him with dead man’s blood.

Seconds and minutes passed before Dean felt a warm hand on his cold, sweaty cheek.

“Dean, let’s go.”

 

“It almost killed you back there, Dean.”

“You don’t know that,” he yelled back. “I could’ve had a plan.”

“We’d love to hear it,” Cas said flatly. His arms were crossed in front of him, and Sam was sitting next to him on the counter of the bunker.

“Shut the hell up!” Dean screamed. “If you don’t move out of my way in the next minute, so help me I’ll shoot you myself!”

Cas shook his head. Sam looked down with shame.

“What?” Dean shouted. “Do you know what I just went through? Give me a damn beer!”

Cas sighed and stood up. He opened the refrigerator. He pulled out a beer. He handed it to Dean.

“Here,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” Dean shouted angrily. He popped the cap off with his teeth and drank the whole bottle down in less than a minute. “Was that so hard?”

Cas waited silently. Another second passed before Dean was lying still, collapsed on the kitchen floor.

“He’s out?” Sam asked sadly.

Cas nodded.

“You fixed his room so he can’t hurt himself?”

Cas nodded again.

“Alright. Let’s lock him in there."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have comments, please let me know!
> 
> Alcoholism Help: http://www.helpguide.org/articles/addiction/alcohol-addiction-treatment-and-self-help.htm


End file.
